


The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: Short but Sometimes Sweet: Damerey Collection [19]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: "How do I say eff you in flowers" trope, "I'm allergic to flowers but you're a florist and I have a crush on you" trope, BB8 is a big dog, Eventual Smut, F/M, Florist Rey, Fluff, Modern AU, TROPES FOR DAYS, Veteran Poe, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-06-17 17:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: Poe Dameron wants to send a very specific message to the son of his boss; but when he meets the owner of Crait Floral, he develops a massive crush on the pretty florist, so he keeps finding excuses to stop by her shop.Too bad he's horribly allergic to flowers.





	1. Touch a Hundred Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic there will be fluff! and smut! and tropes for years! and a happy ending!
> 
>  
> 
> General warning: Poe has PTSD and panic attacks/unhealthy thinking as a result.

“And how was this week, Poe?”

Poe fiddles with the cushion on his lap and clears his throat. At his feet, the orange and white Staffordshire terrier senses his distress and huffs gently, lifting his head from his paws before resting it on Poe’s feet. Biebs isn’t a trained therapy dog – Poe had him Before – but Finn’s kind enough to let him into his office, knowing that the dog is best at calming Poe down, at grounding him when all else seems futile.

“That bad, huh?” Finn’s smile is kind, patient, and Poe remembers why he goes here and not to the slightly fancier place closer to his apartment. Finn’s seen shit just like he has, and when he got back, he became a counselor (‘just like my man, The Falcon!’ he’d said to Poe at his first appointment). Now he helps vets like Poe talk through their own shit.

“Yeah,” Poe clears his throat again and nods, looking determinedly at Biebs before lifting his eyes to Finn’s face. “Yeah, you could say that.” Finn doesn’t prod, just gives Poe time to breathe, and fuck he appreciates that, he really does. He can get this out, he _can._ “I uh, got into a fight. With this lawyer prick at work.” Poe snorts then, balls his hand into an angry fist. “He isn’t even one of _our_ lawyers. But he’s the son of my boss, and – and he came in and was making comments about my team’s designs for the new project, saying how it wouldn’t be appropriate for a warzone. So he’s standing there in this three piece suit that costs more than what I make in a month, and shitting on our designs as if he has _any_ idea what’s appropriate for a warzone...” Poe makes an angry noise and cuts himself off.

At his feet, Biebs makes an echoed, sympathetic noise and sits up so his nose is pressed into one of Poe’s fists. He uncurls it after a breath, another breath, and pets his dog’s velvety ear for a second.

“He sounds like he sucks,” Finn says amicably, and Poe jerks his head in agreement. “And it sounds like he made you feel powerless. Would that be fair to say?”

“Yeah.” Poe stretches his shoulder, the bad one, out and rubs the sore muscle while nodding. “Yeah, it just. I really like my boss. Leia’s amazing, and she’s given us so much freedom to do this project, and a lot of funding. I – I wanted to make her proud, and make people safer. What we use right now isn’t suitable for helping civilians get out of warzones, and – our design _would_ work. But her fucking son just walks in and craps all over it, and…” Poe bites his lip and scowls down at his lap. “When we were screaming at each other, I just wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that probably wouldn’t have played very well with the boss.”

“Probably not.” Finn sounds amused, which cheers Poe up slightly. That means Ben the Asshole probably was being an idiot, and he wasn’t overreacting. “But you controlled yourself, and you can admit to yourself that there isn’t anything wrong with your design. That’s really good, Poe, and a lot healthier of an outlook than you would have had, say, a year ago. You’ve made incredible growth, and yeah, it’s not always going to be up and up, sometimes our growth is lateral and sometimes we even fall backward for a bit. But you’re doing a great job, and working for a great cause, and you shouldn’t let one lawyer prick get under your skin. Keep telling yourself that. Now, did you talk to your dad this week?”

Poe brightens at the question and launches into a story about Kes – which somehow dredges up a memory of his mother, which he’s kind of convinced Finn had organically let happen while also sort of orchestrating it, as he was basically a therapy wizard – and the next twenty eight minutes pass with quips from both parties, stories about the service, and Poe’s resounding conclusion that Ben the Asshole can go fuck himself.

***

The asshole is back the next day, Friday, and Poe grits his teeth through the entire aggravating thing. Leia doesn’t seem to listen to her son that much, and even gives an _are you kidding me_ look to Raddus when her son isn’t looking – but she doesn’t throw him out either. Poe gets it. He really does. Leia hadn’t spoken to her son for a five year stretch, apparently in response to some really shitty political views he was espousing, and they were working on repairing the relationship (her son had quit his garbage corporate job and was now taking on less evil cases as a partner at a smaller firm), so yeah, she wouldn’t kick her son out on his ass for fighting with an employee (especially one who could definitely physically kick the asshole’s ass six ways to Sunday).

Doesn’t mean he’s any less tense when he leaves at 1830, having entered his timesheet for the week. Poe opts to walk home, all sixteen blocks. Connix, an intern at Leia’s company who had side hustles all over the place to pay for grad school, had been by to walk Biebs earlier, so he isn’t worried about his dog doing a pee dance while his owner stews for a fifty minute walk home; Poe isn’t sure why he was letting Ben get under his skin so much. He kicks angrily at a discarded soda can and then sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and picks up the can, chucking it in a nearby blue receptacle.

The movement drags his attention to a pretty, community urban garden that had been set up in the middle of the block, and he takes a minute just to look at the flowers (from a distance. He hadn’t taken his Zertec this morning).

And then: an idea.

Poe grins to himself, shoves his hands in his pockets, and walks home with a bit more of a bounce in his step.

He greets Biebs cheerfully when he walks in, takes off his suit jacket and hangs it up carefully, and changes into a v neck t shirt and sweatpants. A quick dinner of reheated meatloaf – Biebs ends up suckering him into sharing a piece – and an episode of House Hunters, and he’s ready.

Poe fires off a text to his dad reminding him of their fishing trip plans on Sunday, and then fires up his laptop. He cracks his neck and then his knuckles and delves deep down into a Wikipedia hole, creating a list of what he wants on his phone. Around 2200, he Yelps the nearest florist, sends his order in – they were closed for the night, of course – and then leans back in his chair, smirking to himself.

***

_“Hi, this is Rose from Crait Floral – I’m calling for Mr. Dameron? We received your order last night, and my boss was wondering if you would come in and double check what it is you want? She was um – she was a little worried about something. So, please stop by sometime today or tomorrow, at your earliest convenience, so your order is ready for Monday. Thank you!”_

Poe had received the message from the florist around 0800, an hour after they opened, and he waited until around 1000 to get dressed and head over.

He puts on a soft grey tank top which exposes the large tattoo that covers half his chest and spirals out to the top of his left arm, and pairs it dark blue cargo pants. Poe runs a hand through his hair – short on the sides, long and curly on top – before shrugging. He used to put a lot of stock in his appearance, but now he’s just thrilled when he remembers to take a shower on the weekend.

Poe laces up his combat boots and grabs Biebs’s leash – eighty pounds of hyper Staffy hurtles into his legs, and he laughs uproariously as his dog tries to fit his head into through the leash on his own, butt wiggling ferociously from excitement. “Here!” Poe chuckles, managing to clip the end of the leash to his collar. “You beast.”

Biebs doesn’t care about the criticism and bounces out the door ahead of Poe; he barely has time to lock it before the terrier’s dragging him out onto the street and over to the nearest tree where he promptly does his business.

“People are going to think I didn’t walk you yet today,” Poe accuses his dog, “They’re going to think I’m a horrible, mean man,” and Biebs kicks up mulch in retaliation. He shakes his head and tugs on the leash, walking uptown towards Crait Floral.

It’s a twentyish minute walk, just about halfway between his townhouse and his office, and Poe feels oddly anxious looking up at the cheerful storefront, painted a bright blue with a vibrant red sign. Flowers pour out of every crevice, fill up the window, and sit in boxes out front.

“Thank God I remembered my allergy meds,” Poe whispers to Biebs. He sneezes anyway at the wave of pollen, and then squares his shoulders.

Social interaction. He could do this. He could do this.

A sign in the front door says “All Animals Welcome! (Except Fascists)” so Biebs comes with him into the shop, which makes the impending social interaction a little less daunting.

A pretty, Asian girl behind the counter is tapping her fingers along to the beat of a nineties’ classic – a gold wedding band shines on her left hand – and Poe walks over to her, starting to smile because she’s cute, and he also likes this song; but, his foot catches on a tub of what he thinks are geraniums, and it clatters loudly, making him wince. The girl startles, and her eyes widen at the sight of him – and Poe knows, really, that he can look a little intense, with the tattoos on his chest and arms, with his massive dog who happens to be a breed often, wrongfully, portrayed in media as scary, and he knows he doesn’t sleep well and is a bit more scruffy and haggard than he would have been two or three years ago – and it’s all sort of adding up to be a disaster.

He feels a bit more defensive than he did when he walked in, so he stalks up to the counter, sets his feet staunchly, and sets his jaw for good measure. “You called me?” He asks brusquely.

“Oh.” Her nametag says Rose, so yeah, she’s the cheerful woman from the phone this morning. She’s scrambling now, and looks a little guilty, and Poe would feel bad about it except he just feels like he has a headache from all this goddamn pollen. “Yes – um – Rey?” She calls into the back of the store, and then smiles at Poe, a bit more genuinely this time. “She’ll be right out. Your dog is super cute, by the way!” Biebs pants in appreciation, and Poe feels a little less like his nerves are being stretched out and scratched at with an ice pick.

Before he can respond, the bell chimes announcing another customer, and Rose excuses herself to go talk to them. Biebs tail whumps rhythmically against Poe’s leg, and he focuses on that instead of how out of place he feels in this pretty flower shop, God, what was he thinking, and –

“Mr. Dameron, I presume?” He looks up at the soft, British accent, and his heart stops. Then, it restarts, violently, and he can barely hear over the beat in his ears.

A young woman is standing in front of him, smiling down at Biebs. She’s tall, willowy, with just a hint of feminine curves that she’s hiding under an old band t-shirt and a pair of overalls that Poe is 103% certain would look ridiculous on literally anyone else. Her hair is half-up, exposing cute ears which match a cute nose, and her hazel eyes are laughing when she looks up from her examination of his drooly dog.

Right. He needs to speak.

“Poe.”

_Good job, buddy, one whole syllable! That’s just great!_

“Poe Dameron,” she grins and holds her hand out. “I’m Rey.”

“I know.” _Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you._ “Sorry, uh – Rose – said? – and, it’s on your nametag, and—”

Rey’s clearly an angel because she smiles kindly at him and doesn’t comment, merely gesturing for him to follow her to the back of the shop. He follows without kicking anymore flower pots, and she snags a piece of paper off the workstation she’s set up in the back of her wild, green store (which Poe is only a little sure won’t kill him with pollen in the next five or so minutes) and hops up on the bench.

“Okay, Poe Dameron, I got this order of yours, and I’m a little worried because, well, it’s certainly unique, but you should know, this particular arrangement means—”

“Fuck you.” Rey looks up, startled, and Poe winces with his entire body. “Oh, shit, no, not you, it’s uh – I wanted it to say fuck you.”

Rey regards him for half a second, and he waits for her to ask him to kindly leave her store and her sunny presence, and then she throws her head back and roars in laughter. Her feet kick around, and he takes a second to appreciate her beat-up high top Converse while she clutches at her side and laughs.

“Oh, my,” Rey wipes the tears out of her eyes and snorts one last time. “Oh, I bet he’s fun, isn’t he?” She address Biebs with the question, and his disloyal dog pants in agreement. “Right, well. It certainly does say that. Orange lilies and aconite for hatred, yellow carnations for disdain, and red garden anemone for –-“

“Wikipedia suggested it was the equivalent of go crawl into a hole and die,” Poe offers, and Rey raises her eyebrows. _You sound like a fucking psychopath,_ he scolds himself.

“I suppose it is,” Rey agrees, thoughtfully tapping the paper against her leg. “Now, Poe Dameron, I’m glad you know what this means, and I’d be happy to make this for you – as long as it’s not going to show up on some poor woman or man’s desk on Monday morning when their only crime was spurning you.” She fixes him with a deadly glare, and Poe – who’s been tortured and watched his friends die and was left for dead – honestly blushes.

“No ma’am,” he says honestly. She quirks her mouth up in response to the title, but he pushes ahead. “No, it’s for the jackass son of my boss. He thinks he’s smarter than God, and he keeps offering his unwanted opinions, and I wanted to say fuck you, but I couldn’t because…”

“He’s your boss’s son,” Rey finishes for him, and he nods anxiously. She smiles, and it reaches her lovely eyes, the corners crinkling slightly.

She has freckles on her nose. And her cheeks.

And he thinks he can see some on her collarbone.

He wonders where else they are.

He’s so fucked.

Rey’s already moving on, pulling out green tape from one of her pockets and is humming to herself, and Poe shuffles his feet awkwardly. He pats Biebs on the head while he waits for her to talk, even though he’s kind of sure it’s his turn to talk first.

“What's his name?” Rey asks.

“Ben.”

Rey frowns down at him thoughtfully. “You named your dog Ben?”

 _Shit._ “No. No – the, uh, asshole’s name is Ben. This is Biebs.”

Her grin is nothing short of evil. “Biebs as in—”

“Bieber.” Poe’s fully mortified now, and Rey’s grin is only growing. “My niece really liked Justin Bieber when I adopted him, and she wanted to name him Bieber, and I couldn’t say no.” He says it in a rush, and it’s one of the longest sentences he’s said to someone that wasn’t a co-worker, Finn, or his father in the last year and a half, and Rey giggles delightedly – so yeah, it was a successful sentence.

“Alright then, Poe and Bieber, let’s get this arrangement to this Ben fellow.” She hands him a clipboard, and he fills out the details – listing the address of Ben’s firm as the mailing address – and then she clears her throat. Poe looks up expectantly, and she’s looking to the ground, shyly. “My grandfather’s name was Ben.”

“Oh.” Poe goes back to the clipboard, where all he has left is the payment information, and he fumbles for his wallet.

Rey snatches the clipboard out of his hand. “No. No, this will be on the house.” He opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. “My grandfather’s name was Ben, and he had a tattoo just like that—” She nods at the tattoo he’d gotten in honor of his unit, “He was a pilot, and a good man, and he would have loved to use flowers to tell someone to fuck off, so this is on the house.”

“Oh.” Poe blinks slowly and smiles at her. She shifts on the bench, probably out of embarrassment, and he rubs his neck with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Rey taps the clipboard with her slender fingers and smiles shyly. “Thank you for your service, Poe Dameron.”

He manages to get out of the flower shop without any more incredibly embarrassing events, and Rose and Rey both pat Biebs on the head before they leave – the former conjuring up a dog biscuit seemingly out of nowhere – and he waves to the florists before heading down the street.

“She was pretty, huh?” He says to Biebs.

The Look he gets in response says “ _Yes she was, and you really should have gotten her number, and then she could have been my new mom because she seemed entirely perfect and not at all put off by what a weirdo you are, and also, she had a smile like sunshine, you absolute dolt_.”

Poe sneezed loudly and obnoxiously in response, his nose aching from the prolonged exposure to pollen. “That’s a little intense, buddy,” he points out to Biebs.

***

But Monday rolls around, and he gets an email notification saying his flowers have been delivered, and the email is signed _Rey Kenobi,_ and even though it’s a professional email, he sits there smiling like a fool at his iPhone for ten minutes, just smiling at her name, and at the idea of Ben Fucking Solo taking flowers made by the prettiest girl in the galaxy, flowers that really say “fuck you, you asshole,” and he’s oddly buoyed by the image.

It’s Holdo’s birthday tomorrow, so when he finds himself outside Crait Floral at 1755 that evening, well, he’s just trying to be a good employee.

Poe takes a deep, pollinated breath and walks into the store.


	2. colours come and go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe continue their flirtations in the flower shop, as one tries to pluck up the courage to ask the other on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Someone has a sex dream in this chapter!!
> 
> ** - POV change  
> *** - time skip

The second Poe Dameron exits her shop, Rey sags over the counter dramatically. “Am I dead?” She asks Rose, who’s smirking at her from behind the register.

Her friend grabs a watering can and sprays Rey right in the face with it. She shrieks and wipes at her face frantically, and Rose roars with laughter. “No, you’re definitely alive. Hey! Don’t look at me like that.” Rey continues to glare at her, wishing a thousand Legos to Rose’s heel. “I figured you might need to cool off a little bit. You know, cuz your loins were burning while you were lusting after that nice man.”

“He was a nice man,” Rey sighs and flops over the counter again. “A very nice man. I didn’t think they made men like that.”

“He looks like a Michelangelo sculpture,” Rose agrees, and they exchange mock fainting gestures, back of hand to forehead, before Rey straightens up and tugs her apron into place.

“He’s also a person, and a paying customer,” Rey sighs and shakes herself internally. “Shouldn’t be talking about him like this. He was in a rush to get out of here. Definitely didn’t think I was anything special.”

“You’re entirely too modest,” Rose says. “And virtuous. If Finn wasn’t in the picture … woowoo!” She does a cute little shimmy on her way out from behind the counter, watering can in hand for the flowers on the other side of the shop. Rey laughs at Rose’s dance and goes off to plan the best arrangement of Poe Dameron’s “fuck you, Ben-the-asshole” flowers.

She blushes to the tips of her ears at her workstation, remembering how obviously she’d squirmed when he smiled at her. It had transformed his already handsome face so  _wonderfully,_ the white of his teeth striking against his tan cheeks, the laugh lines at his warm eyes – Rey shivers just from the memory of it, the desperate need for friction returning. There was no chance in hell he hadn’t noticed her involuntary bodily reaction to him – it had been frankly embarrassing. She’d had sex less than five times in her life, never sought it out, but the right man smiled the right way one time and she was wet like she never was outside the safety of her own bedroom and self-exploration.

Rey frowned at the sheet, muttering  _Ben Solo,_ under her breath, and wondered what kind of special jackass could make a nice man like Poe Dameron want to create a fuck you flower arrangement.

Nice men with nice smiles (and nice asses, if she’s being honest) stick in her head even after she closes the shop that evening. When she showers, she desperately thinks of anything else besides smiles with small gaps in the front teeth, or muscular arms with beautiful ink, or …

Nope, not thinking of any of it.

Her attempts at chaste thinking bite her in the ass of course; when she finally falls asleep that night, she finds herself in the middle of a very banal dream involving flowers and dunes of sand and bottomless oceans –

But then the scene shifts, and she’s in a field that’s surrounded by what looks like jungle. The scent of fruit is heavy on the air, and odd monkeys flit from tree to tree. Even stranger planes fly overhead, and she tilts her head back to watch them, a tugging in her scalp at the motion suggesting that she’s wearing her hair differently. Just as her hand raises to feel the buns that form a line on her head, the ground she’s sitting on shifts. Rey looks down, and realizes it’s not the ground at all; she’s straddling a handsome man with a familiar face and a crooked grin. His clothes are different: not a tank top and tight pants, but what looks like the uniform astronauts wear.

It’s a good look for him, from what she can see. Rey grins at him, feeling oddly at ease, and he reaches up to cup her cheek. She darts a kiss into his palm, which makes his smile widen. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, and his voice is warm, and loving, and Rey pitches forward into it.

She can’t even tell if they’re kissing, they’re so close, but whatever’s happening feels wonderful – she thinks she feels the bite of a kiss at her collarbone, more teeth than lips, but it feels so good when he brushes his nose down after it, his hands sweeping along her body. They’ve flipped at some point, and he’s hovering over her, and Rey feels good, warm, sosafeandhappylikethis, toolittle, needsmore, and she realizes she must have said that out loud because he’s laughing and tugging her clothing, an odd tunic she’s never seen before, over her head. His lips follow the path of her clothing, and he covers her body with kisses. When he kneels between her legs, his hands stroke patterns she can’t quite follow over her skin.

He takes his time in taking her apart, and Rey appreciates every second. He doesn’t seem to blink after her clothes come off, just stares at her with enough reverence to make her blush the entire time, and he hums as he curls his hands around her hips..

“So pretty,” he murmurs, and Rey has just enough willpower left to lift a hand and trace the beautiful tattoo, designed like a spiraling wave, over his pectoral. “Fuck, you feel good.” He’s slipping over her, his cock brushing against her clit over and over again, firm and warm, and so, so needed –

His voice is low and velvet and just on the right side of sinful, and combined with the throbbing presence of him right where she needs him, Rey’s hurtling towards the edge. She whimpers and grabs at his muscular shoulders, and he’s kissing the valley of her breasts, whispering something she can barely hear as he guides himself into her.

 _Oh fuck,_ she thinks,  _way bigger than I thought –_ and did she say it out loud? Because he grins at her devilishly and then begins to fuck her in earnest. It’s all she can do to wrap her legs around his waist and guide him in, and his thrusts push her upwards, towards the end of the bed – but they’re not in a bed, they’re in a field, aren’t they? She doesn’t even know anymore, definitely doesn’t care – and she looks up in to his brown eyes and sees them looking unabashedly into her own, and that’s the sight that tips her over, pleasure spiraling just like his tattoo between her legs and, and  _Poe, oh God, Poe_  –

The alarm clock blares, and Rey sits bolt upright, clutching her chest.

“I’m going to Hell,” she decides aloud, shivering and throwing her covers back.

She doesn’t know how soon  _that’s_  going to be – turns out, hell shows up on Monday evening when the bell chimes, and in walks Poe Dameron one more time.

He’s wearing a white button down today, tucked into tight grey pants, and he has his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. And yep, of course, his top two buttons are unbuttoned, his hair better maintained than it was on Saturday but still looking very much like Rey should drag her hands through it.

He’s pouting his lips and staring at a potted plant like it’s done him great wrong, so Rey walks up and fixes what she hopes is a “professional customer service” smile and not a “I had a sex dream about you and it was the best orgasm I’ve had in the last three years” smile onto her face.

He doesn’t seem to see through her, thankfully, and Rey manages to maintain her professional disposition while inwardly her lizard brain is screaming at her to ask him out and then climb him, maybe not even in that order. Poe’s here to order flowers for a girl though, someone named Amilyn –

“Oh,” Rey says, her stomach churning. He does have a girlfriend, then. God, she’s such a creep, having sex dreams about nice, unavailable men, and she’s flailing about that as she fills out the order form, when Poe drums his fingers on the counter, causing her to look up.

“Ami’s uh, my boss,” Poe says awkwardly, his finger still tapping away. “One of my bosses. Not a – she’s – um – tomorrow’s her sixtieth birthday. And so it um, no, red roses? I guess? Don’t want to send the wrong message.”

“Oh,” Rey says again, because her brain’s like a skipping record right now. “Oh, cool. Nice of you to get her flowers.”  _A little odd,_ she thinks,  _if you’re not dating._ But hey, it brought him back into her shop, and it’s always nice to have returning customers.

(Especially when they look like Poe Dameron).

“Yeah.” Poe hums and watches Rey put a quick, non-obtrusive, cheerful sample together, and he nods in approval. “That looks really nice,” he says sincerely. He’s leaning over her counter, resting his weight on his tan, muscular, distracting forearms, his lower body pressed against the glass, and Rey’s wondering if he’d press  _her_ against the glass, when he stands up and pulls out his wallet. “Can I come pick these up tomorrow morning?”

Rey immediately feels contrite because here she is, having sexual fantasies about the man, when this is a business transaction. God. She’s a monster. Trying to rope her hormones back in, Rey nods and turns to grab the post its up on the shelf behind the counter. She has to go on tiptoe to reach them and wonders how the hell they got up there when Rose was four inches shorter than she was. “Tomorrow morning sounds good, Mr. Dameron,” she says, forcing a note of cheer into her voice. “It’ll be fifteen dollars.” He gives her an odd look, and she knows she’s been found out because an arrangement like this should be at least thirty. “It’s a discount because I hope you’ll come back and bring that cute dog with you.” There. That was normal customer banter, wasn’t it?

But Poe Dameron blushes and nods and stammers something about Biebs, and then he’s rushing out the door. Rey groans and buries her face in her hands because of course Poe Dameron knows she has a crush on him now, and she has to see him again tomorrow morning.

Unless.

**

Poe hurries out the door and down the street, dragging his hands through his hair. Jesus Christ – could he have been any more obvious? Rey Kenobi was definitely, absolutely an angel for not throwing him out of her store – he’d been doing almost pretty good (okay so he’d barely gotten a sentence out, but she’d been  _talking_ to him while being  _pretty_ and how was he supposed to contend with that?) when she’d turned around to grab something, going up on tiptoes (which was positively adorable, honestly) and then he had to white knuckle the counter because honestly, really, it should be illegal to look that good in overalls.

Rey Kenobi had a beautiful smile, a sweet laugh, and apparently, an ass designed to torture him. And he felt awful about it, the fact that he’d even looked at her ass, but it had been right there, and he had a definite crush on her, and he really liked the person the ass was attached to, so was it that bad to think about it?

Yeah. Yeah it probably was.

He groaned, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes, and when he dropped his hands, he saw that the other pedestrians were giving him a wide berth. Fair enough.

***

Rey’s not there when he comes to pick up the flowers on Tuesday – “she had an appointment,” Rose says, smirking oddly. She probably caught him ogling her friend. Great.

Poe thanks her, and Rose thanks him right back, and as he walks out the door, she hollers, “Come back whenever you want, Mr. Dameron! We got more than just flowers, here.” And yeah, she  _totally_ knows about Poe’s crush.

On Wednesday, in the middle of the day, he remembers he actually does need flowers for Thursday. He groans and searches on Yelp for another lower cost, nicer florist, but there’s none within walking distance, and he really doesn’t want flowers from the grocery store. So, he straightens his spine, steels his resolve, and walks into Crait Floral at 1745. The door’s propped wide open, which he tells himself is a sign from the universe that he should go in, and not just a sign of the warmer weather today.

There’s no one else in the store, and he walks down the aisle with taller succulents at first; he doesn’t see Rey or Rose right away, but he does hear Rey from a few yards over.

“I’m so tired, Rose.” It’s punctuated by a yawn, which really shouldn’t be that cute, but it is.

“I asked you if you wanted any coffee after lunch,” Rose shoots back, from a different, further away location. Rey huffs in agreement, and then both girls walk towards the back of the store, from the sound of their retreating voices and footsteps.

“I need caffeine,” Rey says, moaning. “Something cold that’ll just kick me in the ass, you know?”

Poe doesn’t even think, just walks out of the store, into the coffee shop caddycornered to Crait Floral, and orders two iced coffees, both with milk and sugar and a shot of espresso. He carries his loot with him back to the florist, and he walks in and makes a beeline for the flowers he wants.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Crai— oh! Poe Dameron!” Poe pivots and smiles at Rose, who’s grinning almost evilly. “Rey! Our favorite customer is back.” He tries not to read too much into that, and Rey walks down the aisle. Today’s overalls are cut short, to a few inches above her knees, and honestly Poe could have done without knowing how golden and smooth and perfect Rey’s legs are. His imagination would have sufficed.

“What can I help you with, Poe Dameron?” Rey asks. Her eyes dart down to where he’s holding two coffees, and she smirks at him. “Needed a big caffeine hit, then?”

“No,” Poe sighs, looking at them with what he hopes is believable irritation. “No, they uh – made my drink order wrong, and they gave me a new one to replace it. This one has whole milk, and I only drink skim. Felt weird to just throw it away.”

Rey’s eyeing it hopefully, and Poe shrugs and holds it out to her. “Would you – uh – do you want it?” He asks, praying that this is a normal human interaction – at least outwardly, he knows this is super fucking weird and probably creepy in reality, but hey, the lady needed caffeine and he didn’t know her well enough to just offer to buy her a coffee – and Rey eyes it for a moment longer before smiling shyly.

“Are you sure?” She asks, biting her lip.

Fuck. Yes. He’s sure. He’s so sure.

“Yeah, it’s whatever,” he says lamely, his heart slamming in his chest as her smaller hand reaches out to take the coffee with whole milk.

It’s worth the anxiety when she takes a sip, and her eyes flutter shut, a small groan building in her throat (Poe blushes and hopes that it’s warm enough outside that she’ll just blame it on that). Rey sighs and opens her eyes. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”  _I mean, I kind of did,_ Poe doesn’t say. “What can I help you with?”

“I need more flowers,” Poe says, praying it doesn’t sound lame, understanding that it definitely does. Rey raises her eyebrows. “I know, I uh – I keep coming back, it’s been a weird week, but you guys are great, and everything’s been great, and I really need for this to be…”

“Great?” Rey finishes for him, and he nods, his face twisting into something he can’t even decipher. “Who is this for? A girlfriend?”

“No, don’t have one of those,” Poe mutters, staring at the ground.  _But I’m looking to fill the position,_ he would have said if this were 2015 and not 2018. But he’s changed now, a lot older than his 32 years, and a lot more tired, and a lot too messed up to flirt with ease with beautiful women, especially ones who saw right through him and definitely knew how much of a crush he had on them. “It’s for my mom…”

“Oh, you’re going to visit her?” He nods, combining it with a short of a shrug. He is going to visit her, technically. Rey’s smiling kindly at him, her eyes warm and gentle, and fuck, he just – he just really wants to hold her. Or have her hold him. Is that weird? It is. It totally is. “That’s so sweet! Here, does she like bright colors?” Poe makes a non-committal noise before he remembers –

“Daisies. And daffodils.” Rey grins at him and leads him over to that section, and they work on pulling out some of both. Rey collects some pretty, white flowers as filler, and starts to make the bouquet while he’s standing there. He gets lost in watching her work for a minute, the way she puts the flowers together so effortlessly, how she matches the stems up so well in a way that makes the bouquet look natural.

He realizes she’s asked him a question a little too late, as a result. “Sorry?” He asks, wincing.

“I said, how often do you see her?” Rey holds up for a work for inspection, and he nods encouragingly before answering.

“Never.” Poe shifts and wishes that the earth would just swallow him up now.

Rey gives him an odd look. “Never?” She starts to wrap the flowers in green tape at the bottom, holding the protective cellophane in place.

“Well, uh…” He flounders for a second, but spits out, “Tomorrow’s kind of the anniversary of – well - She’s dead.”

_What the fuck is wrong with you? What? The ? Fuck?!_

Rey smiles at him though. “My parents are both dead!” She says, with the genuine nonchalance that comes from years of pretending not to care. Poe should know.

“Yeah?”

“Super dead,” Rey nods and puts the last of the tape on before handing it to him. “I wouldn’t bring them flowers any time soon, though, they sort of sold me for drinking money.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Poe raises his eyebrows at her, and Rey grins at his obvious indignation. Her eyes carry the smile, so he feels bold enough to say, “They were idiots, Rey.” It doesn’t begin to cover the actual rage he feels for this woman he barely knows, for the cruelty she must have experienced in her life, but it’s a start.

“They sure were,” Rey agrees readily, and they share a brief smile.

Poe pays for his flowers without further incident or exposure of his weirdness, and he walks out feeling a little more confident.

“Poe!” Rey calls after him, and he turns in the doorway. “We get a really nice shipment of flowers on Fridays. You should, uh, come check them out. Because you know, you clearly need more flowers in your life.”

“I really do,” Poe agrees, and leaves feeling a little lighter, with the actual invitation to come back tucked away in his heart like a balm for every bad thing that’s ever happened to him.

And then he sneezes twenty times in a row over the next block.

It was worth it.

***

After he comes back from the cemetery the next day, he stops at the Costco outside of town and buys a six month supply of Zertec because it looks like he’s going to need it.

***

Poe comes in on Friday and watches Rey and Rose fiddle with their new flowers, the scientific names of which Rey has memorized – and Rose translates for Poe – and none of which he’ll remember, but his eyes only itch a little bit while he’s in the shop, and he only blows his nose for an hour that night, and his eyes only burn until around 0200, so he’s really doing great, honestly. Rey had touched his hand by accident when he helped lift a potted plant up onto a display, and she’d giggled at his inability to tell a carnation and a hydrangea apart, so today was a complete and total success.

(That’s what he tells himself when he coughs up a shitton of mucus, at least).

The next few weeks follow a similar pattern. He doesn’t go in every day, or even every other day – he doesn’t want to seem crazy – but he does walk past, and he has a rule: if he sees Rey, he walks in.

And on Wednesdays, he always brings a coffee (and a bag of madeleine cookies for Rose, who hoots in victory and scurries off to the stock room to ‘devour her prey,’ her words, not Poe’s), and Rey always sits, on an overturned bucket or a crate, and talks to him for at least half an hour, or until the next customer walks in. He learns a lot about Rey during this time – she doesn’t have any siblings that she can remember; she has a degree in horticulture from a college in the southwest; she loves animals and has semi-adopted a kitten who she’s pretty sure is more interested in the water and food Rey sets out. He learns how Rey actually takes her coffee (black, but always iced), and he learns that she really does have a smile like sunshine, and she doesn’t always wear overalls, and he learns that she would love to go get her PhD, but her grandfather, Ben, who she’d barely had time to know but had pulled her from the foster system at sixteen, had died unexpectedly and had left her the shop.

He shares a lot of things with Rey, too, which surprises him: he tells her about how Lyra had insisted on naming Biebs, and how his uncle Cassian had roared with laughter at how easily he’d rolled over; he tells her the stories behind the tattoos she points at, and while he shakes for a solid hour after he gets home, he even tells her about the one for his unit, the men and women who’d died (and Rey had given him a long searching look before holding her arms out, and she’d held him, and even though if it was brief, he knew he was right - it felt absolutely perfect to be held by her). He tells her about how his dad still overcooks when he comes over, even though he officially he cannot eat like he could as a teenager; he tells her about how he’s tried to visit his dad as much as possible since his mother died ten years ago, in the middle of his first deployment.

In short, Rey quickly becomes one of the people he’s closest to, and he has an odd, strange feeling of kinship with her. While he’d been so uncertain before, he’s definitely sure that she doesn’t have a lot of people in her life, either – she doesn’t seem to talk about a lot of people other than Rose in the present tense, and he doesn’t think he imagines how sad she looks when he has to leave. He brings Biebs to visit her, and she laughs; he pretends to trip over a crate of flowers, and she laughs; he swears up and down that he once ate an entire rose on a dare, and she laughs – Rey laughs, and he falls in love more and more, until he can’t bear it anymore.

Armed with more internet research and a decent dose of Xanax, Poe walks into Crait Floral about six weeks after his first visit, and he walks up to Rey. She’s on the phone, talking to a customer, and she signals silently that she’ll be right there to talk to him. Poe smiles in acknowledgement, and fidgets with the list in his pocket while he waits for her to finish up.

When she does hang up, she smiles at him and leans over the counter. “Hello, Poe Dameron.”

“Hey there, Sunshine.” Her smile at his nickname for her is always as brilliant as the name suggests, and Poe basks in it, willing it to help soothe his nerves long enough for him to get through this next part. He used to ask people out all the time, no sweat, but right now he’s feeling shakier than a newborn fawn. “I was wondering if you could help me put an arrangement together. But it’s uh, kind of weird, so I’m not sure if…” He trails off, knowing the suggestion alone will pique her interest.

“Oh, a challenge!” Rey takes out an order form and clicks a pen. “Hit me with it, Dameron.”

He takes a deep breath and pulls out his list. “Okay.” He clears his throat, and Rey nods solemnly, which makes him smile, his heart skip a beat, and his fight-or-flight response beg for mercy. “So, something called, uh – linaria bipartita?” He sounds it out carefully, and Rey writes it down, a furrow in her brow. “Yeah, I know, weird name. Anyway. That, and plumeria.”

Rey nods. “That one’s a little more common.”

“Good, good.” Poe looks back at his list and bites his lip. “This is a really important arrangement, you know? So uh – the next one is purple lilac.” Rey scribbles it down, and he sees that her ears are pink. She doesn’t look up. “And then, moonflower. If that’s not … too…” Rey’s looking up now, and he forgets whatever smooth thing he wanted to say. “So. Uhm.”

“Poe.” Rey taps her finger thoughtfully on the order form and looks back up at him, her eyes overbright, her cheeks flushed. “This – um – did you – who do I make this order out to—”

“Someone really special,” Poe says, reaching over the counter slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn’t, and he covers her hand with his.  _Fuck, my hands are sweaty. Too late to worry now._ “Someone I really care about, and who I wanted to send a message to. But if you think she wouldn’t want…or if I should get someone else to make it, uhm…”

“Do you know what this means?” Her smile is shy but teasing enough that he knows she’s aware that he planned this.

“I was hoping it meant  _will you go out with me_ ,” Poe says, and Rey ducks her head down, her hand covering her mouth. He’d be worried that he freaked her out by being too forward, but she looks happy, and her shoulders are squirming with what looks like barely contained excitement, and holy shit, she’s so pretty. “You don’t have to make it,” he hears himself saying. “But – if you could – uhm – do you? Want to go out – on a date – with…me?”

He’s about to say  _I’m better at doing the talking on dates, I think, but it’s been a while,_ when Rey looks up, her hand falling away from her face. “I’d love to,” she declares, and Poe’s heart’s singing in his chest. “I’d really, really, fucking love to go on a date with you, Poe Dameron.”

It’s all he can do to not pump his fist in the ear and scream  _yes, yes, finally yes!_

Rose has no such worries about self-control, however, and she makes her presence known as she comes screaming out of the back room, whooping and shouting “Fucking  _finally_!” She runs victory laps around the counter while Poe and Rey laugh, trading happy and contended glances when they’re not watching Rose’s celebration.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter = Poe/Rey's date AND we really, REALLY earn that E rating ( you didn't think the sex dream was it, did you?)
> 
>  
> 
> Flower meanings from Poe's new bouquet:  
> Linaria bipartita: Please notice my feelings for you  
> Plumeria: New beginnings/perfection  
> Purple lilac – first emotion of love  
> Moonflower – dreaming of love


	3. love is flower-like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey go on their third date...  
> Things don't...exactly go as planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHEAD
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings in the end tags for PTSD/Anxiety (contain spoilers)

 “Third date!” Poe announces to Biebs. His dog huffs at him in acknowledgement and tugs on his leash, dragging towards a nearby tree. As his Staffy lifts his leg and does his business, Poe reprimands him for his lack of interest. “It’s Rey!” He protests, scratching Biebs behind the ear when he finishes up. “You love Rey!”

The look thrown over his dog’s shoulder could not more obviously say, “ _Nope, **you** love Rey. Don’t get that twisted.”_

“We can both love her,” Poe mutters to the traitorous canine. “Come on, let’s go get ready.”

Getting ready is, in reality, a one man job. Biebs watches, completely uncaring, from his perch on the couch (the perch that Poe soon hopes to be occupying with Rey. They’re going to Netflix and Chill. That was a thing young people did. He asked), and he offers absolutely no help to Poe. He has the audacity to grumble when Poe nudges him out of the way so he can vacuum the couch cushions.

He vacuums them three times.

Biebs doesn’t ask any questions.

He’s just swiffered the linoleum in the kitchen when he realizes he hasn’t checked the lint trap on his dryer (why would Rey be in there? He doesn’t know, but she might look, and then she’ll see he didn’t clean the lint out, and then he’ll be In Trouble because the girl of his dreams is going to think he’s a slob). After he’s done with that, he makes the mistake of looking at the grout in his bathroom, and then he notices some dirt on the windowsill in the unused guest bedroom.

By the time he’s done with these Incredibly Important Tasks, it’s 1600, and Rey’s supposed to be there at 1800; he needs to shower (again), so he does, and afterwards, he goes back and forth on his stubble (it’s a three day growth, and a little more than he likes, so he just trims it so it’s even and calls it a day on the personal grooming), and then he pats his hair into a recognizably neat shape. He chooses a red, short-sleeved button down that shows off only some of his tattoos, and agonizes over what to wear on the bottom.

Somehow, it’s because 1756, and he’s still going back and forth on shorts or pants, shorts or pants, and there’s a knock on his freaking door because yeah, she’s here, she’s here early, she’s punctual ( _or maybe excited to see us_? His brain posits, stupidly), and he grabs the khaki shorts, pretending he doesn’t care that the scar that starts on his inner thigh and trails to his shin bone is now showing when he answers the door (he trips over his feet, and then over the runner, and then over Biebs, who’s barking merrily at the prospect of a visitor to what Biebs has been calling _the fortress of solitude_ for over a year).

“Hey,” Poe greets, slightly out of breath. He’s even more winded at the sight of Rey, who’s wearing a yellow, pretty dress that looks soft, and looks entirely too nice against her tanned, freckled skin, and shows off just enough cleavage that Poe—

Poe redirects his eyes almost painfully quickly, and realizes that Rey’s holding a pizza.

“You didn’t answer my text,” she says shyly, holding the box a little higher. “So I just grabbed a pepperoni.”

“Love pepperoni,” Poe says quickly, pulling his phone out and checking it. He groans – she’d texted him forty minutes ago, asking if she should just bring dinner. “I’m sorry, I completely missed your text. I was –”

“Cleaning?” Rey guesses, nodding at the Swiffer that’s betraying Poe by still sitting out in the hallway.

“Yep,” Poe says.

Rey smiles at him for a second longer, before her head tilts and her smile gets more nervous. “Are you…going to invite me in?”

Poe almost takes himself out moving to the side as quickly as he can. Rey giggles at him and walks in all the way, stepping out of her sandals. Her toenails are painted green, and so are her fingernails, and fuck, she’s beautiful.

“Thank you,” Rey smiles at him, and yeah he said that out loud, so he just smiles back weakly like he’d planned it all along. He takes a second, probably more than a second, while he’s closing the door to just fully, truly appreciate the fact that Rey Kenobi is standing in his foyer. “Kitchen?” She asks, nodding her head through the archway.

“Yeah.” Poe shakes himself, locks his door, and gives her a proper tour, Biebs hot on their heels the whole time.

***

After they’ve eaten the entire pizza – Poe, three pieces, Rey, five – he stands up to do the dishes, and Rey stands next to him, flicking soap bubbles at him erratically. She giggles at his half-assed attempts to splash her back (she really looks too pretty to honestly interfere with), and he gets more than a little wet standing there with the vicious florist.

He’s drying the second glass and about to set it on the drying rack when Rey tugs at his belt loops.

“Poe,” Rey says, and he looks at her, his heart skipping a beat at her voice saying his name, something it’s said dozens of times (not that frequency makes it any less remarkable).

“Yes?” Poe waits for her to say what's on her mind, completely comfortable with the fact that he’d wait a lifetime. And also, she’s touching his belt. Which is attached to his pants. Which is where his penis lives.

Fuckity fuck. How has he ever gotten laid in his life?

He’s at war with himself and his nerves and his libido, and Rey’s still smiling like she’s the one with secrets.

“Where are your plants?” Rey asks sweetly, and Poe freezes.

It’s an entirely obvious question for her to ask, considering he’s bought over ten potted flowers from her in the last seven weeks – most of them during the period where he was desperately searching for excuses to stop in and see her – and it’s clear why she’s confused, seeing as he has not a single fucking plant in this townhouse.

“They died,” Poe says quickly, hopefully quickly enough. Rey makes a noise of sympathy, but her eyes are still sparkling with mischief.

“They did?” She asks. “And what’s that for?” She nods her head over Poe’s right shoulder, and he turns to see what she’s looking at; his heart stops painfully.

It’s his fucking Costco-sized box of Zertec, enough for an entire, pollen-sensitive army. There’s even a bottle of Visine, and a bottle of Flo-nase, and holy fuck how did he forget to put those away?

“Um.” Poe coughs and wipes his hands on a towel, leaning against the counter, not looking at Rey. “I’m holding those. For a friend.”

“Mhm,” Rey’s hand returns to the belt loop, and she tugs lightly on it. Poe tries his best not to melt into the floor. “Poe…are you allergic to flowers?”

“Nah,” Poe shakes his head and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Nah, definitely not.”

“Poe.”

“Okay, okay,” Poe groans and slaps a hand to his forehead. “You got me. I can’t even look at a flower without sneezing.”

“And yet,” Rey’s hand is more gripping the belt than the loop at this point, and Poe’s still trying to focus on his mortification.

“And yet.” Poe sighs and looks at her out of the corner of his eye. She looks amused, and fond, and some other things he doesn’t think he’s really done anything to deserve. “I…wanted to see you, I guess.”

“Is that so?” He nods, hating himself, hating himself So Much, but Rey giggles and tugs harder on his belt. “Just when are you going to kiss me, Poe Dameron?”

It’s an honest question; they’ve been on three dates, and he hasn’t kissed her up until now. The first date was dinner, and she’d looked so pretty on the front step of her flower shop, but he wasn’t ready, and he didn’t think she was either. And the second date was walking Biebs in the park when Rey had a free afternoon, and she’d gotten distracted by a flock of ducks right when he was thinking _maybe now, maybe,_ and then he’d entirely lost his nerve.

But now they’re in his kitchen, and he’s ready, and she’s certainly ready if she’s asking that question in that way, and there are no ducks in sight, so Poe lets out the breath he’d forgotten he was holding, and smiles at her, feeling it reach his eyes, seeing it reflected on her face.

“Right now, if the lady’s okay with it,” he answers, and Rey’s hold tightens, and he stumbles a little closer.

“She’s very okay with it,” Rey says, and then he’s kissing her, his hands on her waist, holding her closer than he’d ever thought possible.

Rey tastes like oregano and sauce, a byproduct of their dinner, but she also tastes like something sweet, something clean, something good, and Poe’s immediately addicted. He takes a small breath, tilts his head, and presses another kiss to her lips, her mouth opening in response to his tongue sweeping along her bottom lip. Rey’s hands are warm on his chest, and one slides over slowly to his bicep, squeezing gently.

Rey groans, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her jaw, and right under her jaw, causing her to groan again. She squeezes his bicep harder, and she whispers, “I’ve wanted to do that since you walked into my shop.”

“What, kiss me?” Poe teases, feeling more like his old self as his lips work a steady pattern over her pulse. Rey laughs breathily, and her skin tastes divine on his tongue, and she shakes her head slightly.

“No,” she says, “No, feel you up.”

“Scandalous,” Poe notes, grinning at her. He kisses her again, because no matter how lovely it is to drive her wild by sucking lovebites into her neck, he can’t get enough of her mouth. “Absolutely horrible, objectifying me.”

“Yeah,” Rey nods and her hands slide into his hair. She tugs lightly, and it’s his turn to groan, he can’t help it, that’s always been his weakness. By this point, he’s pressed against her, and she feels so fucking good, this close to him. “It was worse after you left, and I went home. Dreamed about fucking you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Poe swears and kisses her deeply, not hiding how much she affects him as his tongue drives into her mouth. This kiss is the filthiest yet, and their hands roam freely as it heats up. “You’re trying to kill me,” he insists after they reluctantly break apart.

“If I killed you, what fun would that be?” Rey purrs, and he’s about to kiss her again when she giggles. “Sorry, sorry,” she laughs openly, her head tossing back. “It just – it tickles.”

“Beard?” Poe guesses, rubbing his stubble self-consciously.

“No!” Rey’s hand rubs along his short growth. “No, I love this, don’t change this at all. No, Biebs – Biebs’s nose—”

Poe looks down and sure enough, his dumb dog is rubbing his dumb nose on Rey’s bare leg.

“Beast,” Poe says, nudging him with his foot. “Beat it.” Biebs stares up at him with doleful eyes, and Poe grumbles, but he’s distracted when Rey’s mouth brushes up against his ear, her lips warm and soft against the lobe.

“I’d rather not fuck in the kitchen with your dog watching,” she says, and Poe’s honestly shocked at her frankness. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” Poe confirms, grabbing her hand and leading her quickly back to his room. He’s thankful that his dad helped him move to the downstairs bedroom – the last thing he needs is for his knee to lock up, or his back to give out doing something as easy as walking up a flight of stairs, the last thing he needs is to embarrass himself in front of the girl he definitely loves.

“Nice,” Rey comments, and Poe nods because he’d be much more willing to discuss interior design if Rey Kenobi wasn’t standing in his bedroom.

Biebs has followed them, and he’s standing expectantly behind Poe in the doorway.

“No!” Poe says sternly, wagging his finger. “No, adults only, sorry Biebs.”

The Staffy has the balls (well, actually he doesn’t), to whine, and Poe’s heart is still pounding in his ears from the sheer intensity of emotion that comes from having Rey so close to his bed, in such an intimate place, so he doesn’t have as much sympathy as usual.

“Nope.” He goes to shut the door, and Rey coos at the pathetic whimper his dog makes. “Don’t be brought in by him!” Poe orders her, the door clicking shut. “He’s fine! He’s absolutely fine.”

“Mhm.” Rey still looks sad, her bottom lip pouting, because Biebs is pawing at the door, so Poe decides to distract her.

He strides across the short distance to her, as she waits at the side of his bed, and he grabs her by the back of the thighs, hefts her up in his arms, and tosses her backwards on the bed.

“Oh!” Rey gasps, her skin flushing.

“Sorry,” Poe blushes too. “Sorry, was that too much? Fuck, I should have asked, I’m sorry—”

“I’m fairly submissive in bed,” Rey interrupts, smirking at the dumbstruck expression he’s surely wearing due to her candor. “Let’s just get that out of the way. I liked what you just did. I really liked it. I’m very much looking forward to being fucked by you. I have an IUD, my last bloodwork came back clean, and I don’t particularly mind if you skip the condom, if you’re also clean.” She scoots back further on the bed, and crooks a finger at him. “My safeword is Jakku, I don’t like pain, but I particularly like men who are bossy in bed. So. Are you coming?”

“Yes ma’am,” Poe says hurriedly. He probably embarrasses himself further in how quickly he gets to the bed, how quickly he’s kneeling between her legs, but then he’s kissing Rey again, his weight supported on his forearms, and he can’t really be fucked to care.

He’s cradled perfectly by her hips, and her dress is rucked up, and then he splutters out, “Wait, wait –” And Rey pulls back from where she was marking his neck. “No – don’t stop that, I like that,” and her mouth returns with insistent pressure, and his eyes flutter shut. “I’m clean,” he says hurriedly, his hands sweeping down her sides. “I – I have the paperwork, if you want to see it, I’m clean.”

“I believe you,” Rey teases him, and her legs come up slightly so that her feet rest on the back of his calves, and fuck, he hasn’t been touched like this in over a year.

Poe kisses her again and again, enjoying the process of figuring out what makes her squeak, what makes her moan, and what makes her grind her hips upwards into him. The dress is pooled around her waist by this point, and the only thing separating them are his shorts, his boxers, and her underwear, and he loves the way her warmth feels against him, loves the way she has a hand at his back, and a hand in his hair.

His fingers begin to fumble with the straps of her dress, and after a moment, Rey sits up – Poe going with her, so he isn’t in the way – and pulls the damn thing over her head. His brain skips like an old record at the sight of her perky, small breasts in her yellow bra, and he loves them too. “May I?” He asks, knowing that she said she likes bossy, but still needing to hear it. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Rey nods quickly, and as his hands go to caress her through the lacy fabric of her bra, her fingers make short work of his shirt. “I love this,” she says admiringly, once she’s pushed his shirt off his shoulders and to the floor. His hands had returned to knead her breasts as quickly as possible, and she moans, a deep, guttural sound that cuts him to the quick, when he twists her nipple with a little more force than could be described gentle. “Oh fuck, just like that.”

She lies back down on the bed, and he follows her, and somewhere in that process, the bra comes off.

“I wanna eat you out,” Poe says, his hands urgent on her body. They’re grinding against each other, and Rey feels like Heaven, and he wants to let her know how good she’s making him feel, after he was so convinced he’d never feel good again. “I want to taste you, Sunshine, you have no idea, wanna feel you cum on my tongue, wanna fuck you with it, want you to fuck my mouth, fuck—”

“Yes,” Rey nods quickly, her hands in his hair. He smirks and kisses from her neck to her navel to the hem of her underwear. “Please, yes, do that—”

He fiddles with the hem for only a second before the garment joins the dress on the floor, and he strokes an admiring finger along the delicate lips he’s just exposed. “Amazing,” he murmurs, kissing her inner thigh. He arranges himself so he’s kneeling on the floor, and he pulls on Rey’s calves and then thighs until her feet are hanging off the bed and he has better access. “You’re so fucking beautiful, fuck, look at you, soaked already.”

She really is wet, and he’s incredibly flattered. This is absolutely worth the multiple trips to Costco, the sneezing, the headaches, the discomfort. It’s worth it the second his mouth meets her cunt, and he tastes just how – “sweet,” he moans, his finger slipping in easily to the knuckle as he takes a short break just to look at her. She’s magnificent, resplendent, her hair splayed out on his bedspread, her hips working against what little he’s giving her. “You taste so sweet, holy fuck, look at you.” And then he’s back at it, his lips at her clit, two fingers buried in her. “Your pussy’s so tight,” he marvels, “Taking me so well, holy –”

“More,” Rey whimpers, a hand covering her eyes, her other hand coming to grip his hair. He chuckles darkly, lets her pretend that she’s guiding him back down, as if he needed any encouragement. He ups the pressure on her clit, sucking now, and she shrieks a little, a needy shout of, “Poe, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Poe, baby, yes,” and she’s called him _baby_ and he’ll never fucking forget that, will he?

She’s earned another finger, and now he’s got three inside her, feeling her walls adjust around the width of his fingers, still sucking him greedily back in, and he loves it, loves her, there’s nothing better than this.

Her knees swing up suddenly, violently, but he’d had an idea that this was about to happen, just judging by how increasingly wet and loud she had gotten. She cums with his name on her lips, and Poe works her through it, pinning her down with the hand that had been gripping one of her thighs moving to press her pelvis down into the mattress, causing her to ride it out by fucking against his face.

“Shit,” Poe pants, wiping his face quickly and kissing her inner thigh. She quivers and shakes against it. “Shit, sweetheart, that was incredible.”

“Your turn,” Rey moans, making grabby hands at him. Poe snorts and stands, yanking his belt off, and then kicking his shorts off. He stands in front of her in his boxers, and she makes a needy noise, so he lies down next to her, and pulls her to him, kissing her deeply. “You taste like me,” Rey says dreamily, and yeah, that’s going to be masturbatory fodder until the day he fucking dies. Her hand gropes down his chest, which constricts suddenly at the realization –

That she also has, when her hand reaches his boxers and finds –

“Um.”

“Sorry,” Poe flinches, and Rey’s eyes open, a little less blissed out than they’d been a minute ago. “Sorry, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Rey soothes, kissing him sweetly. Her lips are shining with her own arousal when she pulls away, and Poe focuses on that detail, wills his body to respond the way his mind and heart are. “I can fix it.” She strokes over the front of his boxers for a moment, and it feels nice, it does, but also a littletoomuch, so he catches her wrist, and brings it up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you can – it’s – it doesn’t happen all the time, but I’m uh – I’m on a lot of medication. This happens sometimes. It’s not you, its really not you, believe me, please, it’s so very much not you.”

“Okay,” Rey laughs lightly, and flips their hands, flips the script so she’s kissing his knuckles. “I believe you.”

Poe breathes a massive sigh of relief, tears in his eyes because this wasn’t a fight, she didn’t think – “I was worried you’d think I was broken,” he admits. “That’s – that’s why I’ve been … hesitant to make things physical. Because I’m incredibly attracted to you, and I like you a whole lot…fuck, I’ll be honest, I’m in love with you, and it fucking hurts me that I can’t … be with you like that right now.”

Rey stares at him for a second, and he worries he’s said too much. But this is his Sunshine, and he loves her for a reason, and it’s the slow, steady spread of her smile across her lovely face as she says, “I love you too, Poe Dameron.”

“Yeah?” Poe nudges her with his foot. “Should I be expecting red roses on my desk on Monday?”

“No.” Rey shakes her head and wiggles closer to him. He slings an arm over her waist and pulls her in the rest of the way. “No, you’re allergic to flowers. Which is very sweet, by the way, that you’d risk anaphylaxis for me.”

“I’d risk anything for you,” Poe says solemnly, not caring that she had been being facetious with her statement. He’s not kidding. “I care about you so much, and I’m so, so, so fucking sorry my dick’s not on the same page right now.”

“It’s okay.” Rey’s fingers trace a pattern on his hip. “It is, it’s more than okay. I’m – I don’t exactly do this…a lot…I know I talk a big game, and everything, but this is pretty…amazing already. Just being with you is amazing. So please don’t think of yourself as broken. You’re not. You’re the opposite of broken.”

“Yeah?” Poe smiles at her, his heart literally hurting from how pretty her smile is.

“Yeah.” Rey nuzzles her nose against his, and he steals a kiss. “I mean…you’re practically blooming.”

“Haha,” Poe mutters, smirking at her ridiculous word choice, and she kisses him this time. “This feels nice,” he says. “Just this, just holding you. This is…this is perfect.”

“Then don’t let me go,” Rey says, and she says it with a teasing smile, but he recognizes it for the promise that it is, and for the promise it invites.

“I won’t,” he swears, and he holds her tightly, nose pressing into her neck. Rey sighs and wraps her arms around him, too. “I’ll never let you go.”

***

Rey drives with him to Costco the following week, and he lets her sit in the cart as he loads up on his Zertec, laughing when Rey grabs a flat of Kleenex, and a box of eyedrops from the shelf on their way past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning explained, for this chapter: Poe's PTSD has concurrent anxiety and depression for which he is medicated. He's nervous before his date with Rey/has anxious thoughts/anxiety; and, when it comes time for them to have sex, he can't get an erection (common side effect of his medication, and a side effect of his anxiety)


	4. As the fainting Bee/Reaching late his flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has a surprise for Poe when he returns from a business trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY SINFUL SUNDAYYYY

[Sunshine, 16:52]: _I have a surprise for you._

Poe stares at his phone and wills the train to go faster. He’s on the Amtrak, coming back from a ten day ( _ten. day._ ) business trip out of town. His girlfriend (his heart beats a little faster, every time he thinks the word) has been watching Biebs and sending regular video updates of his dog romping in the park or in his backyard. She’s usually heard laughing in the background of those videos, but she’s sent a few selfies of Biebs slurping at her pinched-with-happiness face, or snuggling up next to her while they sit on his couch. It’s what got him through the last week and a half.

What she could possibly mean by _surprise_ has his heart pounding harder, in a great way. Poe’s feeling pretty good – the trip lasted this long because he’s been leading a team that’s in the final stages of designing something that should make a lot of people’s lives easier. Leia Organa hand-picked him for the job herself (something that has him smirking still at the memory of Ben Solo’s affronted face), and she sent him several, enthusiastic, emoji-filled (so, not always very coherent) texts about his performance. It went well. Things are great. And Rey, his girlfriend, has a surprise for him. Yeah, this could be pretty great.

It’s a sign of how much he trusts Rey that the unknown isn’t terrifying him. Instead, he’s incredibly thrilled at the prospect, and willing his train to go faster. Poe closes his eyes and tries to control his breathing. The last thing he wants is to get over-excited, his brain to assume he’s anxious, his brain becoming _actually_ anxious, and then his body going into full fight-or-flight mode before he’s even on the platform of the station kissing the ever-loving nonsense out of his beautiful girl. _Yeah. That’s a good image. Focus on that._

It works, and he does feel significantly calmer. He types out a quick response to Rey, as well as an updated ETA (1756 because the damn Amtrak will never be on time), and then stares at the window and wishes time would move faster for the next half hour or so. He feels – yeah, he feels _good._ His doctor switched him to Effexor two months ago, and while it was a rough transition for a while, it’s been working pretty well, and he feels…well, he feels more like “2015 Poe,” less like “how did I even get out of bed this morning Poe.” He feels amazing, his project went well, his girlfriend has a surprise for him – his therapist is always urging him to think of positive things about the present, this reality he’s found himself in, to help ground himself during anxiety or after a flashback, and Poe’s got an abundance of things, it seems.

And, if he closes his eyes and thinks just enough about his girlfriend’s arms around him, her lips on his neck, her breathless giggle in his ear as he scoops her up in the middle of that damn platform, wraps her perfect, long legs around his waist and presses her up against the nearest surface, well –

Yeah. He feels good.

***

He’s at the front of the car with his bag gripped in his hand as soon as the employee wearing the crisp uniform and bored expression waves at them. The man looks halfway surprised, but he moves out of the way easily enough, and Poe’s bouncing on his heels, waiting to disembark. Finally, finally the doors hiss open, and he can see her, he could see her back at his seat, back when the train pulled up, and she’s here _she’s here,_ Rey Kenobi is here, she’s smiling at him, and _fuck_ he missed her.

Poe almost flies off the train and jogs towards her, grinning wildly. Rey’s wearing her hair up in double buns, and she’s also wearing a (tiny) sundress covered in daisies. She looks almost too good to be true, and Poe’s debating pinching himself to make sure he’s awake, but then Rey’s jogging towards him, too, and her arms around his neck, her mouth on his, and that’s good enough clue as any that this isn’t a dream. 

He wants to tell her he missed her, but he’d have to take his tongue out of her mouth, and she tastes so fucking sweet that seems like a bad idea, and her nails are scratching along his scalp, and really, he can’t be blamed for what happens next, right? There’s gotta be somewhere in this station he can take his girl to, somewhere private where he can help her up on a table or a counter or a ledge and lose himself between her legs, where she’s sweetest –

But then Rey’s pulling away slightly, her lips red and swollen from how hard their kissing was (and a surreptitious glance around tells him that yeah, they did test the borders of public decency, and nah, he doesn’t care), and she says, “You came _home_ ,” and they’re on the same page. They’re always on the same page.

“Of course I did,” Poe says, completely lost to her as usual. “I’ll always come back to you, Sunshine.” They kiss again after that, but sweeter this time, and when she tugs him by the hand towards the car, he goes so damn easily.

***

They’ve been dating for almost four months, and things have developed into an easy pattern between them. Rey spends more time at his place than at her own these days (she had been living over her shop, and Poe had been mildly, barely, sort of horrified at the general squalor she had deemed acceptable), and when they walk in, it’s Rey who goes to coax Biebs from his crate (where he always sits, huffily, door wide open, when Poe isn’t home to play with him), it’s Rey who takes his bag into his bedroom and sets it at the foot of his bed, it’s Rey who’s re-filling the water bowl in the corner when he walks in from putting away his shoes and jacket.

“I love you,” Poe says because it’s true. He says it with his mother’s ring almost burning his skin, the reminder that there’s never going to be anything more perfect than the sight of Rey Kenobi flitting about this house like she belongs there (because she does), or the idea of her filling his home, keeping it safe and warm and loved in his absence, and in his presence. “So damn much.”

Rey, often playful and silly, doesn’t offer a returning comment or a snide remark. She hears the gravity in his words, and thank God she does because he’d probably cry if he said them again, and she holds out her hand to him. “C’mere.” Poe goes, his socked feet slipping over the hardwood floor towards his bedroom, their bedroom now, and she pulls him backwards into the dark space that smells like her.

She’d been sleeping in his bed, Poe realizes (remembers, really), sleeping right there between his sheets while he was away, and the thought makes him groan into her mouth when he pulls her in for a kiss. This one doesn’t end, not in the way it had at the station – each time they break apart, one of them dips back in a second later, a readjustment, a new angle, a deeper pressure, and her tongue flits across his bottom lip expertly, the kind of firm and teasing he likes. His hands go to her hair, and he takes out the small clips that are holding the buns, and her sweet-smelling hair cascades down. His fingers comb it out blindly, and Poe leaves the pure sweetness of her mouth to chase the salty skin of her neck.

It’s a devasting combo, a one-two punch to the gut that has him groaning as much as her. He feels her hips, lush and inviting, start to gyrate against nothing, and he gathers some of her hair into a loose ponytail in his fist and pulls back, not quite gently, but definitely not enough to hurt. “Does that feel good, baby?” Poe asks headily, pulling away to watch her eyes flutter shut and her lips part in a gasp. He places his free hand at the side of her breast, and she gasps again, almost a whimper, and tries to arch into his touch. Taking it as a sign, Poe begins to squeeze her gently, his hand massaging her perfect, perky tits, one at a time, his other hand still pulling her head back.

“Poe,” Rey whimpers, and he takes mercy on her, backing them up slightly so she’s braced against the wardrobe, which rattles when her back is to it. “F-fuck.” He uses the advantage of their position to kiss her neck almost bruisingly, something she vocally approves of with some more creative cursing. He presses a thigh between her legs, gives her something to grind on, and Rey bears down on him quickly, her eyes opening slightly to watch him, and Christ on the cross –

There’s never been anyone as beautiful as her, in the dim half-light streaming into his bedroom from the hallway. Her little sundress as been pulled down by his explorations, cluing him in to the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra, and his brain almost short circuits. Her hair’s a mess, almost entirely caught up in his fist, her neck red and raw from the scratch of his stubble, and her doe eyes are staring him in the face, wondering and loving and vulnerable.

“You’re so perfect,” Poe says because it’s true, it’s damn true. “So perfect, Sunshine.” He lets go of her, and she stumbles forward into his arms anyway, greedily kissing him, her small hands clutching at the tops of his shoulders, her thumbs digging in slightly to the muscle below his collarbone.

“I love you,” Rey says, and he repeats it, his hands hitching up the skirt of her dress as he grips her upper thighs.

“Bed?” He asks hoarsely, and Rey nods eagerly. They tumble backwards, and when she squeaks a little too much on the ‘pain’ side on their landing, he asks, “Pants off?” His belt must have dug into her the wrong way, and she shrugs and nods guiltily.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” she says sweetly, and Poe kisses her with as much love as he can muster.

“More than,” he answers. It’s true – he trusts her, trusts her not to care if nothing happens … down there, trusts her not to laugh at him. Poe unclasps his belt quickly and then his pants are off and kicked away from his ankles. Rey smiles at him, and he smiles back.

“Do you want to know what your surprise is?” Rey asks, just as he’s crawling back between her legs to kiss her some more.

“Of course,” Poe says, pausing entirely, a little confused. It’s a little non sequitur, but hey, he’s doing good if his own thoughts don’t stray more than fifteen times in half as many minutes. “What is it, Sunshine?”

He has to dodge up and out of the way because Rey sits up instead of responding, and tugs at her little dress, tugs at it and lifts it clear over her head. His mouth must pop open at the same time her breasts bounce free, and he stares at her perfect body openly.

“I found a flower you aren’t allergic to,” Rey says sweetly, and Poe has to literally shake himself to look away from her body.

“Huh?” He asks intelligently. Rey laughs, a bright and happy sound that helps him focus.

“There’s a flower you aren’t allergic to,” She says like it’s the world’s best riddle, and Poe barely has time to cock his head before she falls back to the mattress (he _will not look at the way her breasts move_ , he _will not look_ – okay, he _will not be distracted by the way her breasts move_ ) before she twists and shows him what she means.

There’s a beautiful, delicate watercolor tattoo of a red tulip – his favorite kind of flower – that dances at her rib cage, right under the slight curve of her breast. It’s gorgeous, and perfect, and his breath catches in his throat as his finger slides over the still slightly red skin there. Rey hisses, but when he looks at her face intently, marking her reaction, all he sees is nervous hope on her lovely face.

“It’s your favorite,” Rey whispers. “And I thought…you know, all those flowers brought us together, and…”

“D’you know what that flower means?” Poe asks. He’d looked it up himself a few months ago, and he’d snorted to himself at how uncannily perfect the meaning was, especially after meeting Rey and discovering the perfect person did exist.

“Mhm.” Rey rolls onto her back again, and she starts to toy with the buttons of his shirt. Poe starts at the top, and she starts at the bottom, and they meet in the middle when all the buttons are undone. Rey sits up again to push it off of him, and he helps, holding his arms back so she can wrestle it off – she tosses it to the side with a slight scowl, indignant that it had ever stood between them, clearly – and then she runs admiring hands over the large tattoo covering his chest, the ink on his arms. He’s much more inked than she is – that lone, delicate image on her pale, freckled side is _doing things_ to him, though – and Rey’s always loved the spiral covering his pectoral.

“What does it mean?” Poe asks, his voice foreign to his ears. Rey looks up at him, kneeling as he is between her legs, and she leans back so she’s on her elbows, her breasts perfectly on display for him, the small tattoo just barely peaking into view, and fuck, he’s losing brain cells like this, he has to be.

“True, eternal love,” Rey answers quietly, and she lifts a foot from the bed to drag down from the middle of his back to the middle of his buttock. She pushes slightly and he goes down quickly, bracing his weight on his hands, their chests pressing together. He slides up slightly, giving her friction on the points she needs it, and Rey closes her eyes and sighs sweetly.

“Any hidden meaning there?” Poe asks. The ring around his neck is resting on her sternum while he kisses her neck, and he closes his own eyes when she nods.

“It means that I’m always going to love you, Poe Dameron.” He stops kissing her neck so he can look her in her eyes, her beautiful, hazel eyes, and then he kisses her on the lips. It’s slow and languid and it sparks a flame at the core of his spine.

He’s always going to love her. _I’m always going to love you, Poe Dameron._ The feeling between them echoes and rebounds, and soon he’s twisting his hips against hers, preparing to feel frustrated, but –

“Shit.” Poe mutters, eyebrows raised.

“Hello,” Rey laughs wonderingly, sweetly, eyes wide as well. She kisses him again, and his hands skim down her waist, coming to a stop at her underwear. Rey helps him slide them down, and then their hands meet once more at his boxers. “These too?” She asks, not a single ounce of pressure in her eyes.

“These too,” Poe answers, his voice shot from how much emotion is overloading his system right now, almost entirely closing his throat. Rey removes them, and he leaves his hands pressed to the bed, breathing in and out, out and in, in for five, out for three, and then he’s naked, and Rey surges up to kiss him tenderly, her hands soft on his hips, not insistent.

Poe lowers himself the last few inches, and he puts his hand at the base of his erect cock and guides it to her. “Motherfuck,” he chokes out, her blazing heat and wetness almost too much to handle. “Fuck – sorry.” He takes his hand away and reaches down to stroke at her, gathering what he can and spreading it to her small little bud, the most delicate flower imaginable.

She’s even wetter than normal, wetter than when he’s been licking at her patiently for a few minutes, and Rey sighs and croons happily, her small hand tripping down his stomach and then sliding around his cock after a brief pause and a nod from Poe.

“I love this,” she says, eyes drifting shut again. Her hips work in tiny circles, and Poe slides two fingers in, his thumb still rubbing circles over her clit. “Love this.”

“I love you,” Poe returns, his hips thrusting forward into her hand. It’s a little dry, but fuck, he isn’t complaining, not with Rey breathless and bare underneath him, her chest flushed a rosy pink, her taut nipples perfect and inviting. He ducks down and sucks one into his mouth, rubbing his tongue over it in a firm line and then back the other way, and then back again, and Rey arches off the bed, hissing.

“More,” she pants, and she feels tighter around his fingers. “More and then – and then your cock, please?”

“Yes,” Poe says, lifting away from her breast and then moving to the other, which gets the same treatment, and then same gasp of response. “Yeah, yeah, of course—”

“Now?” Rey asks so sweetly it’s almost begging, and Poe nods eagerly, crawling back up her body, both of them groaning when his cock bumps against her clit.

They kiss messily for a few seconds, and when he asks “Condom?” she shakes her head.

“I’m still good without one if you are,” she answers eagerly.

“Definitely.” They’ve had this discussion before, but with his dick out of commission – until _now,_ and he can’t think about it too hard for fear of it all going away again – it had been hypothetical. “Ready?”

Rey places her hands on his jaw and at the side of his neck, and he places his weight on his forearm so he can be close enough to kiss her periodically while his other hand grips the base of his cock. He slides along her incredibly easy, made easier by how soaking wet she is, and how hard he is, and then he’s _there._

Her feet push against the bed, making it easier for her hips to cradle him, and her body opens up slightly to the pressure of the head of his cock. “Oh,” Rey sighs, and he kisses her lovingly, at the side of her mouth because his aim is a little off right now. He kisses her jaw, her chin, her lips again, a kiss for each centimeter of space filled, and they go slowly, so slowly. He has about two inches left to move, and he’s trying not to cum, trying not to let this be over, when her feet leave the bed and her legs wrap around his waist. “C’mon,” Rey moans. “Oh God, fuck me, c’mon.”

“You’re a little bossy today,” Poe teases, and Rey smirks at him while pulling him in, and of course he has to kiss her again. “I love you,” he says more seriously, when he’s fully seated inside of her. She feels – fuck, she feels unreal around him, fluttering and pulsing and _warm,_ and he gathers up what control he has left to slide out slightly and push back in, somehow going deeper than before when Rey tilts her hips up to meet him slightly.

He’s a little bolder on the next move – he’d been into way rougher sex before he’d gotten back with a discharge and a whole mess of problems, but he wants to be nothing but sweet nothing but Good with Rey Kenobi – and Rey squeaks a little,  a sound he very much likes. He makes it his mission to hear that noise again, and soon they’re sliding up the bed, both of them panting and laughing a little bit from just how fucking _good_ this feels. It might be because it’s been literal years since he’s had sex, but Poe swears it’s never felt like this, never felt so easy and connected and _happy._ He feels safe, and loved, and good, so fucking good, and he wants her to feel even better.

His fingers slide over her clit, and his thumb brushes over his own cock for a second as he’s pushing in, and God, that shouldn’t feel so good. He stirs circles over her clit, a firm, insistent pressure that causes her eyes to shut, and her mouth to fall open in practically a scream of his name. He times his thrusts a little more intentionally, trying to establish a pattern that he knows she likes from how many times he’s fucked her with his fingers, well aware that his cock is much, much larger (and honestly way thicker than average, he knows this, he’s heard this, he’s a little self aware about this), and Rey’s hand flies back and braces against the headboard – _when did they get that close to the top of the bed_? – to give her some more leverage as he fucks her towards her orgasm.

She tightens around him about the same time she chokes out, “God, _Poe,_ ” and then her mouth hangs open, her eyes staring off into space, right before she makes a half-strangled scream and convulses around him, her muscles noticeably locking up, and a full-body blush rushing in to stain her freckled skin the most perfect shade of pink. She’s so, so, so impossibly lovely, and she’s so tight around him, and so incredible, that Poe barely has any warning of his own before pleasure shoots white-hot up his spine and he’s coming, harder than he has in memory, and groaning her name while his hips still.

They lie there, still connected, for a few silent seconds. Poe kisses her shoulder without thinking about it, his lips just working over the skin, and Rey shivers sporadically every so often, her hands drifting over his back in a way that has him shivering as well.

“So,” Rey says, dazed. Poe lifts his head halfway, not making a move to slide out of her (some ancient part of his brain very, very pleased that he’s still inside her, that he made her cum that hard, that his cum is still inside her body). “You liked your surprise, then?”

Poe kisses her through his body-shaking laughter.

Yeah, he liked it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (It would probably need to be more than ten days of healing for Rey to heal from a tattoo on her ribcage but I wanted it in the fic; and also ribs are super painful to get tattooed, but she has a ridiculous pain tolerance as we've seen, and I'm sure Poe offered many, many medicinal kisses)

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to melanoradrood who I was talking to about various AUs and it made me want to flesh out an outline I've had - her au is going to be way!the!heck!better!


End file.
